


Take My Hand

by stephanericher



Category: Kuroko no Basuke | Kuroko's Basketball
Genre: Alternate Universe, M/M, Roller Coasters
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-05-29
Updated: 2015-05-29
Packaged: 2018-04-01 20:33:34
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,140
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4033633
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/stephanericher/pseuds/stephanericher
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>For a prompt on tumblr. Nijimura feels the same way he does about roller coasters as he feels about airplanes. Fortunately, a beautiful stranger is there to offer his hand.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Take My Hand

**Author's Note:**

> for anon on tumblr! hope you like
> 
> prompt here: http://awful-aus.tumblr.com/post/116921452282/submitted-au-40

It’s pointless to argue with the park staff about how his siblings are mature enough to go on the coaster by themselves; adult supervision is required at all times on this ride (Shuuzou would mouth off about how the kids are going to be in another row of seating anyway, but he doesn’t want to get kicked out and the whole point of today is his brother and sister enjoying themselves; he doesn’t need to ruin it by being a dick and he can put up with a minute or two of this kind of sensation well enough).

He makes sure the kids are buckled in safely and tightly before securing his own harness—are they secure enough to hold his weight, too? The thin, fraying synthetic threads might not be good enough. He might fall. The kids might fall; the stress might be too great for the strap—

“Is everything okay?”

All of this worrying and Shuuzou hadn’t noticed someone sitting beside him. And this someone is a very beautiful stranger about his age, perfect features and one eye hidden behind his hair, the other glittering and matching a smile that’s definitely not revealing everything—fuck. The ride technician seals the metal bar over their waists, and Shuuzou swallows. At least that’s a little bit more secure. He realizes the stranger is still waiting for his answer.

“I don’t like roller coasters very much.”

The car starts moving; Shuuzou stiffens.

“Here,” says the stranger. “You can hold my hand if you need to.”

Shuuzou’s not sure if he’s being mocked, but decides that he doesn’t care; they’re approaching the first hill and oh god. At least he gets to hold an attractive guy’s hand (and hopefully he won’t break his fingers) and then they start to climb, slowly but accelerating and Shuuzou squeezes, shuddering. This is too much like being on an airplane, only it might be a little bit worse. And then they stop; Shuuzou starts to catch his breath but they’re already going downhill and Shuuzou closes his eyes. The stranger squeezes his hand.

The ride feels much longer than advertised; as they slow to a stop Shuuzou slumps against the stranger’s shoulder and blinks.

“Are you all right?”

“Um. Yeah,” Shuuzou mumbles.

The stranger is helping him unbuckle his harness; the kids have already undone theirs and hopped out and thank goodness they’re okay. He tries to take a step onto the platform, but his feet are unsteady, and once again the stranger has him, hand on his back. The park attendants are rushing over, and Shuuzou tries to wave them away.

“I’ll be fine…just some water would be good…”

“I’ve got him,” he hears the stranger say (even his voice really is beautiful, soothing and smooth), and then he feels a cool object pressed into his palm. “Drink this.”

He drinks; the water is cold in his throat, bringing him out of his stupor; he blinks when he feels something pulling at his shirt and it’s his brother.

“Are you okay? You’re not going to die, are you?”

“No, I’m fine. I just wasn’t expecting this to be so intense.”

His brother nods and slips his hand into Shuuzou’s free one. And then Shuuzou realizes that the stranger’s hand is still rubbing his back.

“You don’t have to—” Shuuzou begins before he realizes he’s still speaking Japanese. “Sorry, I mean, you can stop if you want to.”

“It’s fine; I speak Japanese if you’re more comfortable with that,” says the stranger.

Shuuzou isn’t big on all that cliché bullshit but damn if his heart doesn’t almost skip a beat.

* * *

They sit in the rest area while the kids goof around in the arcade and Shuuzou regains his bearings. The stranger offers to stay with him, becaise apparently holding someone’s hand in a death grip for two minutes and then almost fainting on top of them is a great icebreaker (not that Shuuzou’s in any way complaining). His name is Tatsuya, and he’d come here with his friends, although they’d ditched him a while ago to go on the same few slow rides over and over again. Tatsuya’s more of a thrill-seeker, but he commends Shuuzou’s efforts on the ride earlier anyway.

Shuuzou grimaces. “I hate that feeling, but the kids love it, so what am I going to do? I’ll probably have to go on another few rides like that later, before they get completely worn out. If I make it through those, maybe it’ll be laudable.”

Tatsuya laughs. “If it’s not too presumptuous of me, I can go with you.”

Shuuzou blinks. “You would?”

“Of course,” says Tatsuya. “It’s more fun when you’re not going on alone.”

At that moment, Shuuzou is horribly grateful that Tatsuya’s friends left him—and as long as the coasters they go on aren’t quite as big or fast as the last, he might actually enjoy holding Tatsuya’s hand properly.

* * *

Shuuzou's siblings are wearing down a little bit by this point anyway; they’ve hit their peak of excitement and are content with shorter, slightly-less-harrowing rides. They go on one a few times, since the line is relatively short, and Shuuzou keeps his eyes open the whole ride through on their last go-round, and he doesn’t grasp Tatsuya’s hand quite so tightly (and right after that for some reason Tatsuya suggests they try some other ride).

A few hours later, the kids are cranky and falling asleep; Shuuzou’s sister crawls into Tatsuya’s lap and Shuuzou apologizes but Tatsuya says he really doesn’t mind, and that he likes children (he certainly is good with them, and maybe Shuuzou’s a tiny bit jealous with how easily the kids have warmed to Tatsuya and how quickly he’s reciprocated—who exactly he’s most jealous of, though, might be a different matter). He strokes her hair, coming undone from the tight pigtails Shuuzou’s mother had put in that morning.

Shuuzou’s mother has already texted him that she’s stuck in traffic but she’ll be along as soon as she can get out, so they all wait by the entrance together. She can’t have been that stuck, though; it doesn’t seem as if much time has passed before the green station wagon pulls into the parking lot.

“Thank you very much for this afternoon,” Shuuzou says. “I had a wonderful time. So did the kids.”

Tatsuya smiles. “I did, too. Here.”

He rummages in his pocket for a pen and a crumpled-up receipt, scribbles something on the receipt, and then presses it into Shuuzou’s palm. His hand lingers for longer than it needs to.

“Give me a call sometime, okay?”

Shuuzou nods dumbly. When he looks up from trying to rouse the kids enough to walk them to the car, Tatsuya’s already gone—but the thin sheet of paper is still clutched tightly in Shuuzou’s fist.


End file.
